


Command Line

by ClutchHedonist



Category: Silicon Valley (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Finger Sucking, M/M, Power Dynamics, Shameless Smut, whoops it turns out richard is a needy slut filled with self-hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-15
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2019-01-17 23:18:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12376197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClutchHedonist/pseuds/ClutchHedonist
Summary: There is a pure, undiluted poison in asking for things. Dropping hints, offering suggestions? A necessary evil. Sometimes even making demands is doable. But asking, flat out asking, is like sputtering up the dregs of a faceful of water, stilted and stinging in a way that Richard can’t seem to get used to, no matter how many times he finds himself half-drowned.And so he doesn’t. He doesn’t ask. He demands.“You’re going to fuck me.” He finally tells Jared as he’s scrabbling off his fleece vest on the sofa.





	Command Line

**Author's Note:**

  * For [reserve](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reserve/gifts).



> A prompt from the ever-magnificent reserve, because she led me to this cave like a predatory flautist and I am officially murdered therein. 
> 
> I'm constantly peddling smut at clutchhedonist.tumblr.com, come on by <3

There is a pure, undiluted poison in asking for things. Dropping hints, offering suggestions? A necessary evil. Sometimes even making demands is doable. But asking, flat out asking, is like sputtering up the dregs of a faceful of water, stilted and stinging in a way that Richard can’t seem to get used to, no matter how many times he finds himself half-drowned.

And so he doesn’t. He doesn’t ask. He demands.

“You’re going to fuck me.” He finally tells Jared as he’s scrabbling off his fleece vest on the sofa.

Jared splays a hand on his chest with a wide-eyed smile, “ _ Richard. _ I would be honored.”

“No. No.” Richard tells him as he wriggles free of his own sweater, “You’re going to-...you’re going to  _ fuck  _ me.” 

“Ah.” Jared nods quickly, “You want me to use you.”

Richard freezes, inside-out sweater still swallowing both arms, “...What?”

Jared is sitting up beneath him, tugging him free, “Oh, Richard, I thought you’d never ask. What a treat.”

“Wait, you-” 

There’s a long, slender hand in his hair, and Richard doesn’t have the breath to ask further.

“ _ Filthy. _ ” Jared coos affectionately, and his hand is like a vice, shoving Richard’s cheek into the couch.

“Wha- but I-I- _ hnnhgh. _ ” Richard exhales sharply through his nose as Jared yanks the waistband of his jeans down over his ass.

“You’ve been thinking about this all week, haven’t you?” Jared continues, and suddenly, two of his fingers are crammed down Richard’s throat.

Richard gags, swallows desperately to accommodate them, and feels himself begin to throb. What the fuck? In the three months that they’ve been doing this - whatever “this” is - he’s always been the one to put Jared on his back, to leave him sighing and sticky and _Jesus Christ Jared is fucking his mouth with his fingers._ Richard feels them urging against the back of his throat, snakes a hand between his body and the couch cushions to find himself already leaking. 

“Oh, no no no.” Jared orders, catches his wrist with his other hand, and Richard whimpers, honest to god  _ whimpers _ , “Not until I tell you to.”

Richard feels something twist in his belly, crushes his scalding cheeks into the throw pillow as Jared withdraws his fingers from his mouth. Fuck. Fuck. He’s thinking about calling the entire thing off, retreating to his bedroom to jerk off in shameful peace, when Jared’s wetted fingertips swipe across his entrance, and this time he’s saying it out loud.

“ _ Fuck, _ ” He gasps, body arching traitorously towards the touch.

“I knew you’d like this.” Jared is murmuring against the shell of his ear, and his voice is some kind of low, steel-sharp thing that Richard has only fleetingly imagined in the blinding, anything-goes moments before he comes, “Tell me you like it, Richard.”

Richard groans, “J-Jesus, Jared, fuck, I li-” They’re inside him, then, both fingers, up to the first knuckle, and Richard’s voice drops back down his throat as his knees give out beneath him.

Jared follows him, undaunted, forces into him deeper, deeper, until he’s worked him open to the next knuckle and the next, and the white-hot tightness, the  _ fullness _ of it has Richard cursing and squirming against the couch. 

“Fuck me.” He finally chokes, fingers fisted in the pillow, “Jared,  _ come in me. _ ”

He feels him shudder behind him, feels his fingers withdraw. His body is arching again, searching, and when the tip of Jared’s cock lines up with him, it’s as if all of the air leaves his body at once. He’s wet, slick against him, and Richard manages, in the midst of all of it, a faint smirk - this is what he does to Jared, this is-...Jared is his, _his_ \- and then he’s pushing into him. Richard goes perfectly still, grits his teeth and winces.

“Does it hurt?” Jared asks, and for once, Richard isn’t certain which answer would be the most desirable.

“I’m not gay.” He grates instead.

“Oh, no.” Jared purrs, “You just want  _ this. _ ” His hips snap, and his length sinks in deeper, dragging an agonized mewl from Richard’s throat, “In the end, it doesn’t really matter what you are. You  _ need  _ this, isn’t that right?”

“Fffuck.” Richard whines and shoves his face into the pillow. 

“I’m glad we understand one another.”

And then he’s in him down to the hilt, barely seated in him before he’s dragging back again, forcing him to open for him, to let him in, let him fuck him in earnest, and Richard is wailing into the pillow. Jared forces him into position, grips him by the hair and one wrist, and Richard is coming apart, shattering into shards of sound and sensation. His hips are greedy, now, shoving him back onto Jared’s length like a starved man, and the hiccuped little sobs of, “yes,  _ yes! _ ” pour out of him like a river overflowing its banks. There’s something building in him, something slow and immense and  _ tight oh god tight _ . He feels Jared huff a laugh against his back.

“You don’t even  _ need  _ to, do you?” He lilts, jerking Richard’s head back to take in his face, “You don’t need to touch yourself. You just need this. Need me.”

“Jared,” Richard keens, unraveled, “ _Please_.”

Maybe it’s the noise that does it. The sound of Jared moaning, full-throated and low,  against the nape of his neck as he fills him. Or maybe it’s the feeling itself, the way it’s hot and wet and more, so much more, than Richard had imagined it would be. He doesn’t have time to consider. He’s coming, too, untouched, pinned back against Jared, impaled on him, hair tangled and knees rugburned and soaking,  _ soaking _ wet with Jared’s come.

“Fuck!” He’s sobbing, “ _ Fuck!" _

He wrings himself out on Jared’s cock, goes boneless into his grip when there’s nothing left to give. Jared’s arms are around him immediately, lifting him up, guiding him back onto his chest.

“Oh, Richard.” He purrs into the top of his head, “You were  _ resplendent. _ ”

Richard is panting, sweat-slick, and his own spend is a quickly drying gunshot up across his abdomen, “Don’t-...” He breathes, “...Don’t tell the guys.”


End file.
